Iron Man's alternate tales: Captain America
by Chapin CSI
Summary: Slash. Tony/Steve. Short stories, unrelated except where indicated. New: Moonlight. Tony invested time and money on his first date with Steve, but things go wrong after one little revelation.
1. Rocks and hard places

Rocks and hard places

I didn't see CA, and don't really like Chris Evans, but I like the idea of these two together.

Tony fell into a glacier in the episode "The Origin of Iron Man" from the 1994 TV series.

This is a pre-slash story, actually.

* * *

><p>Tony Stark removed his helmet and placed it on a nearby rock. He punched a button on his wrist, and the face plate came instantly to life.<p>

"JARVIS? You there?"

"_At your service,_ _Mr. Stark."_

"Give me the bad news, JARVIS."

"_You have fallen into an inactive volcano, sir."_

"Yeah, I know that," Tony retorted. "Next time we run out of power, try choosing a better place to crash, will you?" And he pointedly rubbed the back of his neck.

JARVIS wasn't impressed._ "Perhaps if you had heeded my warnings, we would not have crashed at all, sir. I distinctly recall -"_

"Ok," Tony cut in, "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say what I think you just said. Just tell me how long till we get full power again!"

"_Auxiliary reserves shall be restored to full capacity in six hours. With additional weight to carry, however, that energy will soon be depleted."_

Tony glanced at the man leaning on the rocky wall. Steve Rogers, aka Captain America didn't seem to resent being called 'additional weight.' He merely waited.

"_I suggest that you wait for rescue, Mr. Stark,"_ JARVIS added. _"I already sent a distress call to SHIELD's quarters. They should respond to it in the next two hours."_

"Yeah, if we're lucky," Tony said skeptically. "Fury's got his hands full right now." He was silent for a couple of seconds, then, "Let's recharge. We'll get out of here and then we'll see how far we can go."

"_Very well, Mr. Stark. Recharging process will commence in one minute. I suggest you find a comfortable place to lie down."_

Tony looked around.

"You see a comfortable place in here?" He wasn't talking to Rogers, but the young man responded.

"You could sit there," he said quietly. He was pointing at a large boulder.

Tony clumsily lowered himself on it. He didn't say so, but it was actually a good place to rest. He could even lie down. But before he did, he had to make sure Rogers was ok. The poor guy looked jumpy.

"Hey. We're gonna be ok. Ok?"

"Can you really get your power back?"

"Sure. But it'll take a while."

"Six hours?"

"Six. Five, at the very least. But don't worry, we're gonna make it. I've been through this before." He didn't add that he'd fallen into a glacier that one time. It didn't seem prudent, considering Rogers' history. "That was worse," Tony said simply.

_"Indeed,"_ JARVIS piped in. _"Mr. Stark had a very rudimentary computer system backing him up at the time."_

"Yeah, well, at least she would have suggested that I wear a removable armor for this mission," Tony replied. He looked up. The crater's opening was a distant circle of white and blue. "We'll have some light for a couple of hours more," he said. Looking back at Steve, he added, "I suggest we get some sleep."

"Now?" Steve frowned. "Can you sleep with your armor on?"

"Sure." And then, just to liven up things a little, Tony added, "You'd be surprised at all the things I can do with my armor on." He was gratified to see Rogers flush. For a supposedly innocent kid from the forties, Steve Rogers seemed to have a really dirty mind. Drop a little phrase in the right tone, and the kid did the rest. Innuendo went a long way with him. "Anyway," Tony said in a more business-like manner. "We've got nothing to do for the next six hours, so…" He pointedly lay down and closed his eyes.

He took a deep, cleansing breath, then another.

He could feel his muscles start to loosen up.

Soon, he would be asleep…

… If his partner in misadventure stopped making noise, that is. Intrigued, Tony opened one eye to see what Rogers was up to. The young man was pacing about the cave, touching the walls, looking up at the circle of sky above them, and then touching the walls again.

It wasn't till Rogers tentatively turned his attention to the Iron Man helmet that Tony finally spoke.

"Please, don't touch that."

Caught, Rogers was instantly apologetic.

"Sorry. I wasn't... I mean, I didn't -"

"What part of 'go to sleep' didn't you get, Rogers?"

Steve shook his head.

"I'm not sleepy."

Tony half-rose. "You're in bad shape, Steve." he said patiently. "You need a rest. We _both_ need a rest."

"I know."

"SHIELD can't afford to send a rescue mission right now. Looking at the sky won't change that fact." Rogers instinctively looked up, then back at Tony. Resigned, he was about to lean against a wall, but stopped when Tony added, "And you can stop pawing the walls, too; there's no miracle exit anywhere. And if you're thinking of making one, just remember we're in highly unstable ground."

"I know."

"Well, then stop moving around! Your suit's squeaking's driving me nuts!"

Rogers was indignant. "My suit doesn't squeak!"

"Trust me, it does. And if it's not the suit, then it's your knees or your damn metatarsals; I'd have then checked by a doctor if I were you." He stared at Steve until the young man finally got the hint and sat down. "Thanks. Now, if you'll excuse me -" And he closed his eyes.

...Only to open them again.

Steve had started tapping his foot.

Tony sighed.

"Rogers? Are you claustrophobic?"

"I'm not."

Tony gave him a look. "Do you need to pee, or something?"

"Of course not! It's just… It's my metabolism."

That got Tony's attention. He half-rose this time.

"Your metabolism?"

"I'm hungry," Rogers said apologetically.

"Well, then bouncing around's only gonna deplete your reserves faster!"

"I know. But I can't just sit back and do nothing!"

Tony considered the situation for a moment.

"Hungry, huh? I may be able to help you with that." He swung his legs off the ledge and sat up. "I can give you some protein, if you want." To his surprise, Steve flushed to the tips of his ears. He glanced at the crotch area on Tony's suit, then quickly away.

Tony snorted.

"Geeze, Rogers, get your mind out of the gutter. I'm talking about a protein shake. I carry my own food, you know, for situations like this."

Steve's embarrassment only deepened. "I'm –I'm sorry I misunderstood. It's just... Sometimes the agents at SHIELD make jokes and I don't always -"

"Hey, it's ok," Tony said magnanimously. "I understand." That he'd engineered some of those jokes wasn't something he was about to get into right now. "I should have been more specific. So! You want some or not."

"Yes, please."

"Ok. Have a seat," he added cordially.

Steve sat next to Tony and waited.

"Do you like movies, Steve?" Tony asked conversationally. "Horror movies?"

"I do, yes."

"What about Vampire movies? I like those."

"Well. I haven't seen any recently."

"Really?" Tony pressed a couple of bolts on the left side of his chest plate, and a red tube instantly popped out of the neck area. It was a flexible straw, and in a normal situation all Tony had to do was turn his head and draw liquid from it.

He looked at Steve.

"Well. Go ahead." Huskily, he added, "Suck."

Steve turned crimson.

* * *

><p>This is a one-shot story, but I can imagine what happens next: Tony will glance sideways at Steve, their faces so close together they could kiss if they chose to. And then Steve will pull back a little, his lips wet from the strawberry-flavored shake...<p>

And all of a sudden Tony will realize (the hard, painful way), that erections have no place to go when one's wearing armor!

* * *

><p>The End<p> 


	2. Men in little hells

Men in little hells

I read somewhere that Tony and Steve would be at odds in the Avengers movie; I thought it made sense, since Steve probably knew Tony's father better than Tony himself did. I don't know if that's really true, because I didn't see CA, but what if Tony saw it that way?

My third story, pre-slash and heavy on drama.

* * *

><p>Tony Stark stood in a corner of the room, a drink in his hand. The party had only just begun, but he could tell it'd be a bust.<p>

He was toying with the idea of leaving, when he saw a familiar face. Coronel Rhodes made a stop at the bar and, drink in hand, walked up to his friend.

"Hey," he said. "Didn't think I'd see you here. You usually avoid SHIELD's get-togethers."

"Oh, what the hell. After today, I thought they owed me a drink at least."

"I heard you saved the day."

Tony shrugged noncommittally.

"Does that mean you're finally joining these guys?"

"No; it means I'm there if they need me. I don't wanna become Nick Fury's property. I don't wanna become like them," he added, tilting his head to the door.

Rhodes turned.

Agents and heroes came in then, obviously from a meeting with Fury. Most of them waved at Tony before making a beeline to the bar. Tony nodded at them or raised his glass in greeting, but when Steve Rogers appeared, Tony casually turned and never saw the young man's tentative greeting.

Rhodes snorted.

"Could you be more obvious, Tony?"

"What?"

"Why do you hate the guy's guts?"

"Who?"

"You know who," Rhodes retorted. "Steve Rogers."

"I don't hate him."

"Oh, really."

"Really." Tony paused for a couple of seconds, then, "I just, you know, try not to be around him."

"I can see that. Why?"

Tony shrugged.

"Lots of reasons. He's military –old school," he added, so Rhodes wouldn't protest.

"You may have a point," Rhodes said. "Look at him. He's wearing an old-timer's uniform, for God's sake."

Tony glanced over his shoulder. It was true; Rogers had his uniform on, and he'd pinned on every badge and every medal ever awarded to him.

"Still... " Rhodes hesitated. "The guy's a hero; maybe he's entitled." Rhodes looked back at Tony. "He's not so bad."

Tony shrugged. "I guess not. I just can't trust a guy who can't say fuck."

Rhodes choked on his drink.

"What?"

"He doesn't swear," Tony said, amused. "No matter the situation. You know what's the strongest word he's ever used? 'Golly'!"

Rhodey snorted.

"Holy Mackerel, Batman," he said. "'Golly', huh?"

"Yeah. 'Golly, Mr. Stark,'" Tony quoted in a high voice that was not at all like Steve's, but he used it because it helped him make his point. "'Golly, Mr. Stark, that was a real close!'"

They laughed together.

"He can't help it," Rhodes said. "The poor guy comes from a more innocent time."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't live in that innocent time anymore. The sooner he adapts to this one, the better."

Rhodes looked in Roger's direction again. He raised an eyebrow.

"It looks like he's trying to," he said.

Tony glanced too, just in time to see Steve accept a drink from a waiter.

"Whoa. Is that real whiskey?"

"It sure is. Think he's gonna drink it?"

But Tony wasn't looking at Steve anymore. He was motioning a waiter for another drink.

Rhodes didn't speak till the waiter left.

"It's funny," he said. "When Steve first appeared, I thought you'd be all over him. I know you've got a thing for tall blonds of every gender."

Tony scoffed. "'Every gender'? There's only two, Rhodey."

"I'm not sure of that; not with all these strange creatures we keep meeting. We even have a god in our mist now."

"Yeah, but he's got a dick."

"Now, about Rogers -" Rhodes started, then stopped. "Hey, it seems he IS gonna drink the whiskey, after all. Whoa," he winced. "He downed it in one go!"

"Big deal," Tony muttered. "He'll metabolize it in a couple of minutes." When Rhodes looked inquiringly at him, Tony explained, "The poor guy can't get drunk."

Rhodes looked back at Rogers.

"Well, I hope that's true, 'cause he's just picked another whiskey." He frowned. "It looks like he's building up the courage to do something. Oh-oh."

"What?" Tony glanced over his shoulder. Steve was walking in their direction now. "Aw, shit," he muttered. "You don't think he's coming here, do you?" But Rhodes was already moving away. "Hey, where the hell are you going?"

"Agent Hill's just arrived," Rhodes said perkily; "She promised me a dance."

"She doesn't dance! Come on, Rhodey -"

But Rhodes was gone, and now Steve Rogers was standing right there, looking irritatingly earnest. Tony glanced at him, then away.

"Mr. Stark? May I speak to you?"

"You don't have to be so formal, Rogers. But no, you can't speak to me right now. I'm busy, see?" he raised his glass.

Rogers didn't move. "It'll only take a minute, sir."

Tony took a sip from his drink, and Rogers took that as a sign.

"It's about what happened today, sir."

Tony didn't reply. Again, Steve took this as a sign to go on.

He cleared his throat. "I know I'm new in the team, Mr. Stark. I know there are differences in the way we approach a dangerous situation, but -"

"You did a good job," Tony said abruptly. He glanced at Steve without quite meeting his gaze. "Is that what you want me to say? You did a good job, and you saved the day?"

"No, sir. _You_ saved the day. You unnecessarily risked your life instead of letting us do our part."

Tony scoffed.

"Ok. I can see where this is going," he said casually. "You're pissed off because I didn't let you play. Is that it?"

"No, sir."

Tony smiled reluctantly.

"No, I didn't think so." He paused for a couple of seconds. "Ok, look. You're right. I should have relied on you and Thor. I will next time. Ok?" 'You're dismissed, soldier,' he wanted to add, but surely that wouldn't be necessary.

Steve didn't say anything. He looked into his own glass.

"I will," Tony said, a bit pissed at the young man's lack of response. "Listen, Rogers," he said. "If you're worried about me not being part of the team… Don't be. I'll always do my part." He paused but still didn't get any response. He frowned. "You ok?"

"I'm fine."

Hell, no, he didn't look fine, but that wasn't Tony's concern.

"Ok," he said brightly. "I'm glad we had this little talk. Now, if you'll excuse me -" he started to walk away, but Steve wasn't finished yet.

"I just want to know why -" he started, then stopped. "If there's something I did or said, sir, then I wish you'd tell me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tony said, but he knew, all right. He hadn't been friendly with Steve –in fact, he'd been outright hostile. He had his reasons, and up till now, he thought he'd keep them to himself. But now that Rogers was there, he realized the young man deserved to know.

Hopefully, once he did, he'd stay the hell out of Tony's way.

"Ok, Rogers, let's talk then," Tony said amiably. He stood next to the young man, so anyone looking at them would think they were merely spectators to the party. "First of all, it isn't personal. No, what I'm saying;" he muttered. "Of course it's personal." To Steve, "What I'm trying to say is… it's not your fault. Ok? Except that it is, in a way. You understand that?"

"No, sir."

"Nah, I didn't think you would." Tony hesitated again. He looked wistfully at the door –he should have left right after the first drink. No, he should have left right after Steve came in. He shouldn't even have come, in the first place. But now it was too late. Resigned, he looked sideways at Steve. "Ok, look; I'm gonna say this now and then I'm gonna pretend I never said it, Ok?" He waited until Steve nodded. "Ok. D'you remember my father?"

"Yes, sir," Steve said quietly.

"Well, I remember him, too. And I'm not talking about the man on the press clippings and the documentaries, Steve; I'm talking about the one I lived with. He was a sad man who drank and spent most of his off time alone in the basement. No matter what my mom did, no matter what I did, it didn't make any difference; it was like we were invisible to him. Eventually, my mom stopped trying. I would have stopped too, except that he died." He took a deep breath. "My point is, I thought I knew my father, Steve.

"Then a month ago I got a bunch of pictures and films of you two working together, and I see a man I can't recognize. And it's not because he's younger, you know? It's not that; he looks different because he's _happy_. You can see it, even in the stills. Every time he looks at you –shit, he sure as hell never looked at my mom that way.

He looked at Steve. "He loved you, didn't he."

The young man didn't look up; he only nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Now I finally know why he was so damn unhappy," Tony said bitterly; "He died along with you, Steve. A part of him, anyway. And I know it's not your fault -I mean, you didn't want to die, and I'm sure you didn't want my dad to die either- but my point is, he was never the same afterwards. I guess I should be sorry for him but you know what? I'm not. I'm pissed; I almost wish he'd stayed true to your memory instead of marrying my mom and making her miserable."

Tony took a deep breath. Shit. He thought talking would lift the weight off his shoulders, but it hadn't worked quite that way. He felt worse, actually.

He forced himself to smile, though; he'd never let on just how much it hurt to talk about this.

"So," he said, in a brighter tone, as if they'd just been having a friendly talk. "I hope you understand why I'm not your biggest fan, Steve."

Steve looked at him. "He didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly. "Or your mother. He only -"

Tony raised his glass, and the tingling of the ice drowned the rest of Steve's words.

"We never... We never spoke," Steve added. "Ever. You got discharged for less than that in those days. Even if I hadn't died, we would've never -"

"Hey," Tony said sharply, "Did I say I wanted to hear about it?"

"I just want you to understand what he went through," Steve said earnestly; "He was a good man. You know that."

Tony closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. Yes, his dad was a good man. Misguided, yeah. Twisted, too. But he'd lived in his own little hell, so maybe he deserved some compassion.

He took a deep breath. "What a fucked-up world," he said. He looked up and this time –for the first time that night- their eyes met. There was pain in Roger's eyes. Pain, and something else.

Tony looked down. His empty glass gave him a way out.

"I need a drink."

"You're so much like him," Steve said, in a rush. "And sometimes -"

"Don't," Tony said abruptly. He looked at the young man, a warning in his eyes. _Don't fucking say it_. He started walking away –he really needed a drink, where the hell was that waiter? -but Steve's next words (real or imaginary) reached him anyway.

" -you look at me the same way he did."

* * *

><p>The end<p> 


	3. Heroes in Love Pt 1

Men in love

A sequel to Men in little Hells.

* * *

><p>"…Fury didn't tell me his name at first. He only told me of his feats."<p>

The voice crept slowly into Tony Stark's conscience, drawing him from what felt like the heaviest sleep ever. There was something familiar about that voice... something he felt he ought to respond to... but couldn't.

Not quite…

It didn't matter. He was so tired -

"He was a hero. Everything I'd aspired to be."

This time Tony recognized the voice. It was Steve Rogers' voice.

At least, it sounded like his.

It couldn't be Steve speaking, though. Steve normally sounded… uptight.

Yeah. That was the word. Uptight. He liked that word, uptight.

Uptight Steve.

Rigid Rogers.

Someone should teach Steve to unwind.

Tony smiled. _Oh, I'd teach him, all right…_

Thinking of all the fun he'd have while doing just that, Tony started to drift back to sleep.

Steve Rogers' voice came back then.

"Fury told me how he escaped from his captors," it said. "I knew right then I'd follow this man anywhere."

Tony came back abruptly. There was Steve's voice again. Steve Rogers, sounding like he never did before –not while talking to Tony, anyway. There was a certain… softness in Steve's voice right now, like he was talking to a kid. Or a woman. Chivalrous Steve Rogers had a way with the ladies, didn't he?

_Son of a bitch._

So, Steve was probably giving an interview, or something. An interview -that's it.

_TV must be on,_ Tony thought idly. That was ok. He left the TV on all the time. No big deal.

Except…

He only left it on when he was too drunk to either use the remote or tell JARVIS to turn it off.

_Oh, no. _

_No. _

_Not after all this time. _

Tony tried opening his eyes but couldn't. His body refused to obey for some reason. Come to think of it, he couldn't even feel his body. _That must have been some party_.

He just wished he could remember it.

At least he was home. At least, he thought he was home. There was certainly something familiar in the air; a scent he thought he recognized.

Gradually, he began to notice other things; he was lying on his back, for instance. Not on the floor (thank God) nor on a couch. A bed, then –a big plus; things couldn't' be that bad if he'd had enough sense to get into bed.

Soon, he became aware of something else; a vague sensation somewhere… His hand? Yeah, his hand. It felt like it was trapped or something. No, not trapped; held. Yep. His hand was being held by something warm and… Alive. Someone else's hand.

Oh.

_That's weird._ He wasn't the kind of man who held hands, so why…? And whose hand was it? He was trying to remember who he went to bed with, when the sound of a door opening caught his attention. There was a feminine voice, "Is everything all right, sir?" and a response, "Yes," that seemed to come from Steve himself.

"The doctor will be here in an hour." And then the sound of the door again.

Now, that just didn't make any sense. What was Steve Rogers doing in a medical show?

But those words were like a final piece of a puzzle falling into place. It all made sense: the voices, the feeling of drunkenness… and the scents, of course

He was in a hospital; Stark Industries' medical facility, to be more precise: the air reeked of SI's own brand of disinfectants.

_Oh, man_.

He hated hospitals. They said it beat being dead, but being a patient meant getting pumped full of drugs, in which case he'd rather be dead because last time he got hooked on the meds and waning himself off them took every ounce of strength and determination, and why did he have to have such an addictive personality... ?

A slight shake of the head went along with this thought, and the hand holding his responded with a little pressure. A nurse, obviously. A nurse with hands bigger than his.

_Nurse Ratched._ The thought made him smile. No way in hell. Stark Industries medical personnel looked better than that. Tony insisted on it.

Unless…

Unless he'd ended up in SHIELD's headquarters...

_Oh, hell_. _Don't tell me I'm holding Nick Fury's hand right now. _

He managed to blink his eyes open this time. It took him a moment to focus, and when he did, he saw the white ceiling, a lamp, and a face looming above. Not Nick Fury's face –thank God. Steve Rogers' face.

Suddenly, images flooded Tony's mind. Images and sounds, so vivid he had to close his eyes to deal with them; The Mandarin's forces, gathering above Manhattan; Nick Fury, putting a call to all Avengers to assemble… Steve, looking solemn as he offered himself as bait while the rest of the Avengers launched a joint attack…Which might have worked, except that Tony had a better idea, one that didn't involve the team.

The last thing he remembered as he flew straight into the Mandarin's force field was Steve calling out, "Tony, come back!"

And then, everything went black.

Tony's lips parted. He tried saying something but couldn't quite manage it.

"It's ok," Steve said softly. "Don't talk." But Tony kept trying, and so Steve leant closer.

"… Ok?" That was all Tony could say, but Steve understood.

"Yes," he said. "The city's ok. The Mandarin's gone."

Tony shook his head.

"You."

Steve stared at him. "You're lying on a hospital bed and you're asking _me_ if I'm ok?"

Tony kept his gaze on Steve. _I need to know._ He couldn't say the words, but Steve seemed to understand.

"I'm ok," he said. Then, forcing a casual tone, "Thor's ok. And Clint, too. You? You're an idiot. You've got a concussion; two broken ribs, three broken fingers -"

_That's not so bad._

"- and your heart stopped beating for what felt like an eternity."

_Oh, fuck_. He knew how bad he looked when his heart did one of his tricks.

"You're lucky to be alive," Steve said sternly. He obviously expected Tony to agree, but Tony's thoughts were elsewhere right now.

"My… face?"

Steve stared incredulously at him.

"You could have died and that's all you have to say?" He paused for a couple of seconds, then he relented. "Your face is fine." Then in a lower tone, "You're still an idiot."

Tony smiled.

"I'm serious, Tony."

And that's exactly why Tony was smiling. Steve was seriously pissed… because he cared. And that felt good.

Steve leant into his line of vision again. "I just don't understand why you risked your life like that."

"Love you." Tony frowned. He wasn't supposed to say that out loud. What the hell was the matter with him?

Steve was just as surprised. Pleasantly surprised. He was smiling faintly.

"Do you?"

No, Tony wanted to say, but his mouth decided otherwise. "Yes," it said. _Oh, crap_. It' was the painkillers; they lowered his self-defenses. It was like being pumped with truth serum…!

Tony licked his lips, then, "It's the drugs talking," he said feebly.

Steve's smile widened. "Really? Can I ask them a couple of questions then?"

Tony averted his eyes. Not that it would keep him from responding, but at least he wouldn't be looking at Steve while he made a fool of himself.

But he shouldn't have worried. Steve wasn't the kind to take advantage of a situation. He merely sat back, seemingly content with holding Tony's hand.

Tony covertly glanced at him now and then. Steve looked uncharacteristically disheveled, like he'd worn the same clothes for days in a row. And he needed a shave, too.

Just how long had they been in that hospital room, anyway?

Steve noticed him looking.

"What is it?"

"You're beautiful." _Oh, shit_. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

Steve smiled indulgently.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

Oh, well. Maybe 'beautiful' wasn't the right word.

"Handsome," Tony's mouth amended. Then, as other parts of his body started to wake up, it added, "Fuckable."

He felt Steve's hand grow hot all of a sudden. Steve was blushing.

_Ah, ha! _Tony smiled to himself. _That'll teach you not to ask questions, Captain Rogers. _

* * *

><p>tbc<p> 


	4. Heroes in Love Pt 2

Heroes in Love

Part two

* * *

><p><em>That'll teach you not to ask questions, Captain Rogers...<em>

Feeling contented, Tony closed his eyes to rest a bit.

He did more than rest a bit. When he opened his eyes again, the room had turned a shade darker, and he felt considerably less woozy. Things he'd accepted so easily seemed harder to reconcile now; he was holding hands with a man –Captain America's hands to boot. Not only that; Steve was looking down at him with concern; not anger or polite derision.

"Tony. How do you feel?"

Tony frowned. 'Tony', he'd said. Not 'Mr. Stark' or 'Iron Man.' And since when did Cap sound so… well, gentle? Was this real, or was he merely hallucinating?

_Oh, shit_.

Tony closed his eyes. "Please, tell me this is not one of The Mandarin's sick mind games."

"It's not a sick mind game," Steve said patiently.

"How would you know? You could be a part of it."

"You'll have to trust me."

Tony looked at Steve. _Whoa._ Steve looked terrible. He needed a shave, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he was still wearing the same rumpled clothes -

He was real, all right.

Tony looked around. "What time's it?"

"It's close to midnight."

"And you've been here all this time."

It wasn't a question. Even if he'd taken a break - even Captain America had to go to the bathroom after all, - he'd carefully resumed his place, even putting Tony's hand back in his own. _Aw, Rogers…_ Tony felt a sudden surge of tenderness for the man.

It was a feeling he wasn't used to, though, and so his first impulse was to kill it.

"That's weird."

"What?"

"Having someone watch while I sleep."

"What about the nurses? Don't they watch you sleep?"

"Not even them. It's in their contracts. They're not supposed to stay in the room while I'm in recovery."

"What if you're in a critical condition?"

"That's what all these gadgets are for," Tony said, his eyes doing a little tour of the room. There were gadgets everywhere indeed.

Steve glanced around too, then back at Tony.

"I can see why you'd need to keep people away," he said. "You talk in your sleep."

_Shit_. "Oh, yeah?" Tony said nonchalantly; "Did I say anything important?"

"You said you love me."

Tony winced.

"Oh. Well, that was the drugs." he said lamely.

Steve nodded.

"I see," he said slowly. "And I suppose it was the drugs that made your hand hold on to mine all night long too?"

Tony looked at their clasped hands as if he'd only noticed them now. "What, that hand? That hand's a slut. It's got me in all kinds of trouble."

He was trying hard to dismiss his own feelings, and if Steve had pulled his hand away, Tony wouldn't have claimed it back. But Steve didn't move. He gave Tony a look –_I'm tired of this bullshit_, the look said. Not that Steve would use the word bullshit, but the effect was the same. He was exhausted.

_He's been through a lot_, Tony realized with something close to remorse. They both had, but Tony had made things worse for the two of them. He'd been cruel to Steve, and the funny part was that he couldn't remember why.

"Sorry," he said, but Steve spoke at the same time and didn't hear.

"I don't want you to do that again," Steve said solemnly.

"Do what?"

"Risk your life for me."

"I've got to. I'd rather die than see you hurt."

Steve's eyes widened.

"Jesus, Tony."

"Actually, it's Anthony Edward," Tony quipped.

"I don't want you to die for me!"

"Hey, it's not a big deal." He was doing it again –dismissing his own feelings. He couldn't help it. "I'm a superhero," he added smugly; "It's my job to save lives."

"I thought you did it because you loved me."

Tony blinked.

"You're not gonna let me forget, huh?" Steve didn't reply. He just gave him _the look_ again.

Tony sighed. He was tired too_. _

Maybe it was time to own up to the truth…

…. But there were a few matters he needed to clear up first.

"Those things you were saying before..." he started; "About Fury and some guy he told you about..."

"I didn't know you were listening."

"I was." He looked up. "I don't remember everything you said, but... Was that about me?"

"Yes."

"Oh. So when you said you'd follow my lead..."

"It's true. Like Thor would say, I'd follow you to the gates of Hades."

"Aw, don't do that. I've been there a couple of times. You wouldn't like that place." He smiled. Steve smiled back.

_Finally_, Tony contentedly; we're in sync at last.

He couldn't understand why it took them so long.

"So. I'm everything you'd aspired to be," he said casually. He felt Steve's hand grow hot again. _Well, well._ Tony felt ridiculously proud. Not that he would admit it out loud. "Speaking of Fury," he said. "He's gonna be pissed about this." He tapped Steve's hand with a finger.

"If he finds out."

"He will," Tony said wearily. "I bet he already knows."

"Natasha does."

"Oh, does she?"

"Yes. She warned me; she said you were a slut."

"My hand, Steve. My hand's the slut." Tony paused. "Did she really say that?"

"Yes." Steve was silent for a moment. "Miss Potts warned me, too."

Tony frowned.

"Potts? What did she say?"

"She said you'd try to push me away," he said quietly; "And that you'd make it difficult for me to love you."

Tony was stunned. How could Pepper betray him like this?

"Wow," he said. "Can't imagine what she'd say if I didn't pay her a big salary."

"Are you gonna do that?" Steve said. "Try to push me away, I mean."

"Well, there'd be no point in doing that now, would it?" Tony said moodily; "The surprise is ruined." Everything was ruined now.

Or maybe not; Steve was still holding his hand after all.

"I never held hands with a guy before," Tony said.

"Me, neither."

"You never held his hand, then?"

"Whose hand?"

"You know whose."

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	5. Heroes in Love Pt 3

Part 3

* * *

><p>"You know whose." He looked up. Steve met his gaze but didn't reply. "Did you ever kiss him?"<p>

"Tony -"

"It's no big deal; I mean, I don't wanna be jealous of my own father, but if you kissed him -"

"I didn't." Steve said quietly. "And you're doing it already."

"What?"

"You're trying to push me away."

Tony was stunned. _Shit._ It was true.

No wonder Potts had warned Steve.

_Damn you, Potts. Damn you for knowing me so well. You probably begged Steve to be patient, and to please hold on to poor, lonely Tony Stark's hand._

_Fuck._

Outwardly, he remained calm.

"Can you get me some water?"

There was a bottle on the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed, too far away for Steve to reach. To get it, the young man would have to abandon his cramped corner and walk around the bed. But first, he'd have to release Tony's hand.

Steve stared incredulously at him for a couple of seconds, then did just that.

Tony flexed his fingers. They were numb after being in the same position for so long.

He looked up as Steve came back. To his surprise, Steve put the water bottle in his hand, then moved past the bed.

Dumbly, Tony looked at the bottle in his hand, then at Steve. How the hell was he supposed to drink when he couldn't even sit up? He was about to say it out loud when he realized what was going on.

_You push people away, what do you expect?_

He stared at the bottle. He wasn't even thirsty, but now it was a matter of principle. _I can do this. _He struggled until he finally had the bottle within reach. He sucked a few gulps then looked around.

Steve was standing by a window, peering outside.

Tony cleared his throat.

"So, Steve. What else did Pepper say to you?"

Steve shook his head.

"I shouldn't have said anything."

"Go ahead," Tony said. "Tell me what she said." _I'm pissed, already. And you're pissed too, Captain America. Let's take this to the bitter end. _"Well?"

"She said you're a good man."

Tony blinked.

"She said -" He gulped. _Aw, Potts_. He was moved, but he wasn't about to admit it. "Oh, well. That's what I pay her big bucks for."

There was no reaction from Steve.

_Well, what do you expect?_

Tony looked away. He'd screwed up. _Again._ And the funny thing was, he wasn't worried about Steve; he was worried about Pepper.

Tomorrow she'd drop by, sad and concerned, though making a good job of masking those feelings. "Are you happy now_?_" she'd ask sternly, arms crossed in disapproval, (just like she did every time Tony screwed up). And Tony, who'd never answered that particular question, would counter with a joke. He'd use wit and charm to chip away at her defenses until he had her smiling along, and while it wouldn't be a happy smile, ("Oh, Tony, I just want you to be happy,"), she'd be convinced that it was all for the best. She'd file Steve Rogers under the "Tony Stark's Lost Chances" tab, and that would be the end of it.

Only it wouldn't be the end of it. Deep down Pepper would be sad, and that sadness will eventually add a line on her face. _Oh, Potts. I'm so sorry._

Tony closed his eyes.

Meanwhile, Steve was restless. He was moving about the room, hesitating between the window and Tony's bed.

Tony couldn't see him but pictured him looking longingly at the door, and gauging the consequences of leaving Tony unattended, (he was a good guy after all). Soon, the door would open and Steve would leave -

But he didn't. Instead, he came back to Tony's side and gently took the water bottle from his hand.

Tony looked up. Steve was standing by, his face in shadows.

"I loved Howard," he said bluntly.

Tony snorted softly. He didn't expect that. _Nice aim, Steve,_ he thought bitterly; _keep stabbing, you're doing a good job. _

"He was my _friend._"

Steve spoke the last word when something close to defiance.

"You were in love with him," Tony countered.

"We were _friends_, Tony." He took a step closer, and his face was visible now. Defiant was exactly how he looked. "Does that word mean anything to you, Tony? To me, it meant everything. I loved my friends –the few I had. I would have died for them; I would have -"

"You did," Tony said quietly. "You died for them."

The words seemed to placate Steve. He looked down, defiance giving way to the grief that had been there all along, barely contained.

Tony watched him for a moment. "If you could go back in time, would you?"

Steve frowned. "What?"

"If you had a chance to talk to Howard," Tony said pointedly; "What would you say?"

"That's crazy," Steve muttered. He started to turn away.

"I'm serious," Tony said. "Forget I'm his son. Forget… everything. Just say it."

Steve looked away, as if to put his thoughts in order.

"You'd tell him you loved him," Tony said. "Right?"

Steve looked curiously at him.

"You sound as if... As if you want me to say so." He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes still on Tony. "You feel sorry for him."

Tony didn't reply. Of course he felt sorry for his dad. A stupid man who couldn't have who he wanted, and didn't want what he had...

Steve spoke then.

"I'd tell him I loved him," he said quietly. "And not to look back. I'd tell him not to feel guilty and..." He paused. "I'd beg him not to be a shitty parent."

Tony started. Steve was looking intensely at him, as if willing him to find the meaning behind his words.

Tony gulped. "Did you say _shitty_?"

Steve nodded.

"I think I'm in love," Tony said dreamily. He smiled, hoping Steve would smile back. The young man was still looking intensely at him.

"I'm a good man, Tony."

"Aw, Steve -" He knew that already. Things had to be really bad if Steve thought he had to say it out loud.

"Miss Potts thinks so," Steve added.

"If she says so, then it's true," Tony said in all seriousness. He raised his hand, hoping Steve would take it but the young man didn't notice.

"I'm tired of losing the people I love," Steve said quietly. "I deserve a break." He looked at Tony as if for confirmation.

"You do," Tony said. He stretched his arm until he touched Steve's hip. "Here," he said. "Take my hand. Please."

Steve took it.

"I'm sorry," Tony said. "I just…" He shook his head. "I'm not used to this," he said at last. "The hand-holding, the sweet-talking… the feelings..." That was only part of the problem, but it felt like he was making some progress. He looked at Steve, hoping the young man understood.

"I'm new at this too," Steve said quietly. He lifted Tony's hand and, after a moment's hesitation, raised it to his lips. It was a sweet gesture, and it made Tony smile. But what Steve did next raised all kinds of alarms in Tony's mind: the young man leant forward, his eyes zeroing on Tony's mouth.

Tony's heart started to beat fast, fast, faster

"Steve… wait…no…"

Steve blinked.

"What is it?"

Tony didn't listen. He was looking at the bedside nightstand, frantically scanning the objects on top -tissue paper, bottles of water, more tissue paper, a flowerpot… and partially hidden, the one thing he really needed: a tiny plastic container.

He lunged to get it but was held back by the IV drip, and the fact that the hand closest to the nightstand was heavily bandaged and useless. Plus, he had a concussion, and the sudden movement reminded him of it.

Dizzily, he felt back on his pillow.

Steve was fast on his feet; he started picking things at random, hoping to get what Tony needed.

"Is this what you want? This?" But Tony shook his head every time. It was only when Steve picked the tiny container that Tony finally nodded and greedily reached out for it again.

His agitation worked against him. Tony looked suspiciously at the container.

"Is this some kind of medication?"

"What? No. But I -"

"Maybe I should ask the nurse -"

Right on cue, a nurse burst into the room.

"Oh, shit," Tony muttered. It was the Head Nurse, the only one who'd never fell for Tony's charms. There was a Nurse Ratched there after all.

She didn't look at Tony; she looked at Steve. "Captain, you promised not to agitate the patient."

"He needs these," Steve retorted, his tone implying that someone had been lax in her duties.

The nurse took the container, looked at it matter-of-factly, then handed it back to Steve. "He can have them."

"Is this some kind of medication?"

"No, Captain. They're breath-mints. They'll probably give him lots of cavities –that's all."

"Breath mints?"

"Tic Tacs," Tony said perkily.

The nurse kept studiously ignoring Tony. It was Steve who got the blunt of her anger.

"Captain. Either you let our patient have some rest, or I shall have you removed."

Steve nodded. "Yes, Ma'am," he said humbly. He waited till she was gone to look back at Tony. "Breath mints?"

"Passion fruit," Tony said placidly. "They're custom made."

"You acted like you were having a heart attack and all along -"

"You should be glad I wasn't having a heart attack," Tony retorted. "Come on," he said, raising his good hand. "I need those. Please," he added belatedly. Steve reluctantly brought the Tic Tacs. Tony expertly opened the bottle with one hand and gobbled two.

"Mmmmmh," he sighed.

Steve stared at him for a moment, then shook his head again.

"I can't believe it."

"Why? Breath mints are important, Steve. They can make or break a business deal. And they make first kisses more enjoyable," he added, with a grin. "I mean, we're gonna kiss, right?"

Steve narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, come on," Tony said. "You love me, right? I mean, you haven't said it yet, but…"

"I do."

Tony stared. Few people could convey their emotions in only two words. Steve was one of them. The effect on Tony was such, he had to take a couple of deep breaths to keep his heart from going wild. He didn't want the nurse bursting on them again.

Once he calmed down, he said, "Steve, I'm gonna be good to you. I promise." He smiled, "God, we're gonna have so much fun."

Not the most romantic of statements, but it was pretty close to the truth.

"Come back here," Tony said, patting the bed.

Steve obeyed. He took Tony's hand again and after a moment, leant over and brushed his lips on Tony's cheek.

"Hey," Tony said huskily; "Since you're in the neighborhood, would you mind dropping by a bit closer?"

Steve shook his head.

"Why not? I swear my mouth doesn't taste like the bottom of a birdcage anymore."

"Your lip's torn."

Tony's eyes widened. "But you said my face was ok!" He started to sit up, but Steve didn't let him.

"Now, calm down. You don't want the nurse coming back, do you?"

"Can I have a mirror?"

Steve smiled. A genuine smile. It suddenly occurred to Tony that Steve rarely smiled like that, and it was he, Tony Stark, who'd made it happen.

_See? He's unwinding already…_

Maybe he was good for Steve Rogers after all.

"Is my face really ok?" It was a silly question, but he was in a silly, happy mood, and hey, he really needed to know too.

"It's all right," Steve said. Then, more pointedly, "You'll have to trust me."

Tony stared at him. He caressed Steve's hand with his thumb.

"I will."

* * *

><p>The End (of Heroes in Love).<p> 


	6. Moonlight

Moonlight

* * *

><p>Tony Stark splashed some cold water on his face. He instinctively picked the bar of soap but once he had it in his hand realized he didn't need it. He slowly put it back. There were towels at his disposal, neatly rolled-up and warm, but he didn't reach for them. Instead, he leant on the sink and let the water trickled down his face and fall on the marble, continuously at first, then in individual drops, <em>plop, plop, plop…<em> Until they stopped.

He reluctantly looked up, and found himself staring at a man who looked, well, bewildered.

"Oh, man," he muttered. Things had to be really shitty if the great Tony Stark couldn't keep whatever he was feeling from showing on his face.

On an impulse, he put his hand flat on the mirror, then slowly lowered it down.

…There. He didn't look bewildered anymore. He looked pissed.

That was better.

"So," he said. "What now?" He didn't expect his own reflection to answer, but he got a response all the same.

"_You ought to return to the living room, sir."_

Tony smiled despite himself. In JARVIS universe, all questions had obvious answers. Go back to the living room –that's what he was supposed to do, of course. Go back and face Steve. Go back and try to explain why he'd rushed to the bathroom as if he had a sudden case of the runs.

Well, of course he'd go back. Just not yet.

Meanwhile, he noticed his tie was a bit askew. He mechanically straightened it up, a gesture that reminded him how just a few hours before he'd stood before his bedroom mirror, prepping for his big date with Steve Rogers –a date he spent considerable time and effort on. Everything was designed to make this night memorable. From the food (hearty and simple), to the drinks, (non-alcoholic, of course); from the crisp sheets on the bed to the lube and condoms on the nightstand. And in a movie that would hopefully get him plenty of points in Steve's eyes, he even had JARVIS play music from the forties all evening.

And the effort paid off. Dinner was good, conversation flowed, and by the time they were eating apple pie, Tony knew the casual flirting that had been going between them could definitely turn to something more.

Steve was certainly enjoying himself. The only time he seemed to waver was when Tony suggested they dance, but even this fit nicely into Tony's plans. "Just follow my lead," he said, in a tone that was guaranteed to elicit shivers from the younger man; and then he'd flashed his most charming smile. Oh, he knew what he was doing. Every move, every word, everything he did was designed to seduce the young Captain America…

And it worked.

"Yeah," Tony said aloud. It _was_ working. At one point he simply leant closer and kissed Steve on the lips. Their first kiss. Sweet and tentative, it held a question -can we go on to next level? And Steve's response, though shy, had been positive; the young man even stopped dancing to better focus on the kiss. Tony's focus turned briefly to other things; Steve's ass, for instance. Tony's hands slowly roamed all over it before Steve's lips claimed his attention back.

And it was while he was doing a slow reconnaissance of Steve's hot mouth that things started to go wrong.

Caught up in the moment, Tony didn't immediately notice that Steve wasn't responding anymore; and when he finally did, his first thought was that (yikes!) his arch enemy Blizzard had invaded his home and frozen Steve on the spot. Fortunately, Steve wasn't frozen; he was just… shocked.

Tony patted his cheek.

"Hey," he said. "You ok?" Steve's mouth moved, but no sound came. "What is it?" Tony tentatively leant closer again, but Steve instantly pulled back.

Tony knew what that meant.

"Steve? You don't want this?"

Steve looked at Tony's mouth. "I…"

"You don't?"

"I… do. It's just…" Steve gulped. "I've never…"

"Never…?"

Steve looked up. "I kissed a girl. Once. But it wasn't –I mean, she didn't -" He looked at Tony's mouth again. He flushed. "Her tongue… It didn't…"

Tony winced in sudden realization.

"You mean you've _never_…?"

Tony was stunned. He knew Steve had never been with a man, but he'd assumed he'd been with women. But now Steve was saying he'd never really kissed a girl –which was a nice, chaste way of saying he'd never fucked one. Which meant Steve was a… a…

It was Tony's turn to freeze.

Looking back, Tony knew he'd handled things wrong. Sure, he'd saved face by saying he needed to go the bathroom, but come on, who could believe that? He'd freaked out; there was no other way to put it.

On the other hand, how was he supposed to react? He'd never met a…a…

"A virgin," Tony said out loud. "For God's sakes, how old is Steve anyway?"

_"Chronologically, sir?"_

"Whatever. He's too old to be a virgin!"

"_According to his records, Captain Rogers was a sickly person most of his life, sir."_

"Yeah, I've seen his records," Tony muttered. "They say nothing about him being a fucking virgin!"

"_Once he was in the army," _JARVIS continued, "_He selflessly strove to serve his country -" _

"Hey, you can serve your country and still live a little!"

"_If by 'living' you mean 'having sexual intercourse,' then the implication is that you have lived several lifetimes in a relatively short period of time." _

"Smart ass," Tony muttered. He was silent for a moment. "I'd never met one before."

_"What, sir?"_

"A virgin." He'd never met one before because he never sought one.

"_Sir, I assumed you already knew this was Captain Rogers' first time."_

"With a man," Tony retorted; "I didn't know it was his fucking first time ever." Or his first time fucking.

"_I fail to see the difference, sir. Or the relevance. It's not a medical condition, after all."_

Tony sighed. He didn't know how to explain it. As JARVIS had pointed out, he'd been with a lot of people -people who'd been around the block as many times as him. He liked sex; he liked giving his partners a good time, (and he invariably did) but that was all. Any emotional connection that might exist lasted only as long as they were in the same room. Making love, in Steve's eyes, was probably a big deal. Making love for the first time ever…

Tony didn't know how to handle that.

_"Sir? I said I fail to -"_

"I don't wanna be the first," Tony blurted out.

"_Should I inform Captain Rogers he ought to find another partner?"_

"No, you should not," Tony retorted. "Just leave it alone, will you?"

"_As you wish._ _I must warn you however; your behavior has greatly disturbed Captain Rogers. He seems to believe you are not attracted to him."_

"Well, what about him?" Tony retorted. "I mean, if he can't even tolerate my tongue in his mouth -"

"_Perhaps you ought to wait before you take such liberties, sir. Take things slow."_

"Take things slow?" Tony frowned.

"_Think of the movies you watched last night, sir."_

"I wasn't really watching." He just wanted to have a general idea of the stories, in case Steve mentioned them. They were Steve's favorite movies.

"_I did watch,"_ JARVIS said, (and Tony thought he detected certain smugness in the statement). "_A recurrent theme was commitment, sir; also, chastity was deeply valued and commended by men and women alike. Captain Rogers' behavior may seem anachronistic to you but to him it is entirely normal."_

Tony looked down. "And to him I'm a slut, I suppose."

"_I doubt Captain Rogers judges you as harshly, sir."_ There was a pause. "_I believe he is falling in love with you. At this moment, he is asking me questions about your coffee machine."_

"So?"

"_He obviously wants to learn everything about you. I see that as a sign of domesticity." _

Tony smiled. JARVIS' views of love were so simple… It was kind of sweet.

"_And sir, if I may? Captain Rogers hunched down so you could dance cheek to cheek."_

Tony narrowed his eyes.

"That's not the kind of thing I need to be reminded of," he warned; "But what's your point?"

_"He is a considerate man. That is a rare quality nowadays." _

Tony scoffed softly. "He'll be considerate when he dumps me, then."

_"If that is what you wish, sir." _

Tony considered this. JARVIS was right. Steve had been following his lead all along; whatever happened next, it'd be up to Tony.

It was a huge responsibility.

"_Sir, it seems to me you only need to answer a simple question: Do you love the Captain or not?" _

"No, the question is, do I wanna risk fucking up a nice working relationship or not?"

_"It seems to me you compromised your working relationship a long time ago, sir."_

"You're supposed to give me solutions, JARVIS."

"_Very well._ _I suggest you use your own first time as a reference, sir."_

"My first time...?"

"_You must remember what losing your virginity was like."_

Actually, he didn't. He remembered some of the events leading up to it, but in a distant way, as if they'd happened to somebody else. A fifteen-year-old left alone in a mansion; friends calling friends for an impromptu party; a party going out of control… And a drink that tasted too sweet.

By the time he woke up everyone was gone, the mansion was a mess, and he'd learned a hard lesson on trust.

Thank God Jarvis, the faithful butler arrived just before his parents and cleaned up the house in no time. He kept the party a secret, but there was little else he could do for Tony, who didn't tell him the entire story anyway. Tony himself didn't know the entire story.

To JARVIS, he simply said, "It wouldn't do any good."

There was a pause.

_"Sir, I have just reviewed my records; this is not the first time you've introduced a man to gay sex. There were Mr. Evans and Captain Reims last year, and -"_

"It's not the same thing, JARVIS:" Those guys wanted sex, hard and fast -the dirtier the better –and Tony was just the man to provide it. "That's not what Steve needs."

"_Then I suggest you improvise, sir. For Captain Rogers' sake."_

Tony was silent for a moment.

"Do you really think he's falling in love with me?"

_"He wouldn't have accepted your invitation otherwise."_

Tony smiled.

"You know what? You're right. He's a smart guy; he must have known…" He was silent for a moment. "I'm gonna need your help, JARVIS."

* * *

><p>Tony found Steve in the living room, still tinkering with the Espresso machine and talking animatedly to JARVIS.<p>

He didn't immediately notice Tony was there, and Tony didn't say anything. He had a feeling Steve would tense up the minute he saw him; better let him be a while longer. Besides, a relaxed Steve was a sight to behold. He didn't scowl, for instance; he didn't look like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was just sitting there, patiently waiting for the coffee to brew.

And it was then that Tony wondered if JARVIS might be on to something after all; maybe he really needed to take things slow; give himself a chance to savor every moment rather than rush to their completion.

_"You did very well, Captain Rogers,"_ JARVIS said, and Steve smiled good-naturedly. Then he saw Tony, and the smile faded. He dropped his gaze again and pretended there was something to adjust in the coffee machine.

Tony walked into the room but stopped just a couple of feet away from Steve.

Steve, polite as always, rose to his feet.

Tony took a deep breath. He'd been thinking of the things he would say, things that were true –because he knew Steve would know if they weren't-things he'd never told anybody else. _I love you._ _I want you in my bed, in my home. I want to tell you things..._

But Steve spoke first, his eyes still on the coffee machine.

"I drank Espresso once," he said. "In Europe. I never thought I'd taste one like it again. Or see little cups like those. There was an old lady there -"

Tony let him talk till he ran out of things to say about the coffee.

"Steve?" _I love you. God, I never loved anyone like this…_ But he didn't say that. "I want you to be happy."

Steve didn't expect that. He flushed.

"I mean it," Tony added quietly.

Steve looked up reluctantly.

"Tony, I… I don't know if I'm the kind of person you need."

"Well, I don't know if I'm the kind of person you need either. I mean, you don't know me; you might think you do, but …" he let the word trail off.

Steve considered this.

"What do we do then?"

"That's easy," Tony said, "We dance." He offered his hand.

Steve didn't move.

"Are you sure you want to do this? This is where the trouble started."

"Trouble? What trouble? You mean that?" He tilted his head in the hallway's direction. "I just needed to freshen up. And a true gentleman wouldn't have mentioned that, by the way."

Steve winced. "I… I didn't mean -" he started, then stopped when he realized Tony was only joking. He gave him an exasperated look.

Tony smiled winningly. He walked up to Steve and offered his hand again. "Come on."

Steve reluctantly took his hand. "Do you really want to do this?"

"Dance? Absolutely." Still looking at Steve, he called out, "Hit it, JARVIS."

A new song started; a romantic one.

Tony nodded. "I like that one," he said casually.

Steve seemed to approve too. He put his arm around Tony and even hunched down to better fit into his arms. Tony was relieved; he surreptitiously opened his phone behind Steve's back. He waited for lyrics to roll and when they did, he sang along.

I stand at your gate.  
>And the song that I sing is of moonlight.<p>

Steve immediately tensed up, but Tony merely tightened his hold on him.

I stand and I wait  
>For the touch of your hand in the June night.<p>

Tony winced. Who wrote these things?

The roses are sighing a moonlight serenade.

(Roses are sighing?) Shit, he'd never felt so foolish. And yet, Steve seemed totally into it. He pulled back and smiled at Tony, then frowned when he saw Tony looking at the phone.

"Don't say anything," Tony warned. "Just dance."

Steve obeyed.

The stars are aglow.  
>And tonight how their light sets me dreaming.<p>

My love, do you know  
>That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?<p>

I bring you, and I sing you a moonlight serenade.

He was a bit out of sync there, and Steve muttered something about it.

Tony instantly pulled back.

"Hey, give me a break. I never heard this song till last night. I've got a good memory for melodies but lyrics give me a hard time." Then he did a double take; Steve was smiling. "You're fucking with me, aren't you." But that was good. That was great, actually. Steve had a sense of humor.

He pressed his cheek against Steve's.

"This is my first time." Tony said conversationally.

Steve pulled back and gave him a skeptical look.

"Singing and dancing; I mean," Tony said. "It's tricky."

Steve held back a smile.

"You're not so bad," he said magnanimously.

"Yeah, well. Just don't expect me to do the Chattanooga Choo choo."

"That's my favorite!"

Tony narrowed his eyes. He knew Steve was screwing with him but he played along.

"Ok, fine; I'm gonna get the lyrics. Meanwhile -"

Let us stray 'til break of day  
>In love's valley of dreams.<br>Just you and I, a summer sky,  
>A heavenly breeze, kissin' the trees.<p>

Tony smiled. Oh, what an idiotic song. But it was oddly appropriate. There he was, trying to rewrite his life –how idiotic could one be?

So don't let me wait.  
>Come to me tenderly in the June night.<br>I stand at your gate  
>And I sing you a song in the moonlight.<br>A love song, my darling, a moonlight serenade

* * *

><p>The End<p> 


End file.
